


I can take care of you

by darter_blue



Series: Kinktober Fics [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Face-Sitting, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:22:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27200377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue
Summary: Bucky has been so good at keeping these feelings a secret. He's been so careful.But Steve is walking around the apartment in nothing but Bucky's old shirt, covered in paint. And he's so soft and rumpled, so beautiful, the creamy peach skin of his thighs, the rosy pink of his nipples through the thin fabric, the way he deliberately slows down to pass by Bucky, to brush past him, to look up at him through those lashes...Bucky can't hide it tonight.And Steve... doesn't seem to mind. That Bucky wants to watch him. Wants to touch him. Doesn't seem to mind that Bucky has no idea what he's doing, has never done this before. Doesn't seem to mind taking control, taking care of Bucky. Taking him apart...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Kinktober Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983098
Comments: 17
Kudos: 249





	I can take care of you

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello all 💙💙💙
> 
> Another work for Kinktober - this was a prompt for some pre-war stucky face sitting.
> 
> So enjoy some soft, happy, sweet sweet smut to take you into a new week 😘

Bucky isn't sure how this started. He isn't sure how he let this happen. Because he's been so good. He's been so good at not letting his eyes linger, he's been so good at not letting his hands touch for too long. He's been so good at hiding it, hasn't he? Hasn't he been so good at hiding the way he feels about Steve, that nobody could tell. Least of all Steve. Least of all Bucky himself...

And it's not like he hasn't seen Steve in that same get up a hundred times. It's not like he hasn't seen Steve in that stupid old shirt of Bucky's that's so threadbare the neckline is non existent. The holes have holes. There's only three buttons left and they're barely hanging on - but oh 'It's so good for painting in Bucky’, ‘It's my lucky shirt now, Buck’, ‘ I always do my best work in this shirt, Bucky,' he says every time. So Bucky just learnt to avert his eyes like always and not notice the way Steve's collar bones would contrast so sharply against his soft, peachy skin. He wouldn’t notice the way that shirt that fit Bucky not a few years ago is still so large on Steve it hangs past his hips, He refused to notice the laddered hole running right over Steve's rose pink nipple and the way, when it's cold in the apartment (and it's always cold in the apartment), it would bud so beautifully erect that Bucky could so easily just twist his fingers around it...

Only tonight is different. Tonight Steve has spilled paint all over his pants, and instead of putting another pair on, like a normal, sane person, he has left his legs bare instead...

And Bucky can’t help the way his eyes track Steve's creamy peach thighs as they slide from one end of the room to the other as Steve gets water for his brushes, gets himself more coffee, fixes himself some jam on that near fresh bread that ma had baked them yesterday (oh, and where did he get that jam? Bucky hasn't had jam in months!).

And every time Steve turns he catches Bucky's eyes on him. And every time he turns he smiles a little wider, a little slyer. He walks a little slower. Until finally he brushes right up past Bucky and stops in front of where Bucky is sat on the bed, shining his shoes.

'What are you looking at, Buck?' Steve asks, looking up at Bucky from beneath those ridiculously long, ridiculously dark eyelashes.

And Bucky means to say ‘Nothing,’ means to say, ‘just thinking,’ like he usually does, but what he actually says is, 'You,' and oh, he would be mortified except boy, does it light a fire in Stevie. It brings a flush straight to his cheeks.

'You're looking at me, Buck?'

Bucky should make a joke, should brush it off, but he can’t, with Steve looking at him like that, eyes shining, biting into his lip like he wants to bite into Bucky. So of course, like a fool, Bucky just nods.

'You like what you see?'

Bucky nods again.

'You like looking at me, Bucky?'

And Bucky's mouth is too fast for his brain, because all he can say is, 'You're beautiful,' and there was no coming back from that. Not that he really wants there to be, when he feels Steve move even closer. Feels him place his soft palms against Bucky's knees and spread them apart, step in right up close to Bucky, his face just inches from Bucky's...

'Would you like to touch me, Bucky?'

And  _ fuck _ . Would he like to touch him? Has he been dreaming about it for years? Does he touch himself some nights just thinking about the way Steve's skin might feel under his hands, not when he's feverish or cold or hurting, but when he's whole. When he's looking up at Bucky like this, like he  _ wants  _ Bucky. Like he  _ needs  _ Bucky. Oh  _ god  _ yes. Bucky would like to touch him.

Bucky doesn't answer so much as he just pushes the shoes off the bed to the floor and slides his hands up under that fucking shirt, to the smooth, warm skin of Steve's stomach. Steve lets his head fall back, lets out a little gasp at the touch of Bucky's hands, opening up the long delicate line of his neck, and it's so close, it smells so good, it's right there, Bucky can't help it, he opens his mouth and closes it over the pulse point. He lets his tongue so gently press into Steve's skin. He sucks that gorgeous skin into his mouth, opening his mouth wider to find more of it, to suck harder, to taste Steve, feel his blood pumping under Bucky's tongue.

The noises Steve is making are  _ obscene. _ His breath is coming fast and hard, he's rocking his hips into Bucky, he's biting down on the choked off moans so as not to be too loud, but Bucky can hear them. Bucky wants to own them.

'Bucky,' Steve is whispering, 'Buck,' he's saying, and it takes too long for Bucky to realise that he's trying to get his attention.

He pulls back and looks at Steve to make sure he's okay. Raises his eyebrows in question.

'Bucky,' Steve says, getting his strong, elegant fingers into the buttons of Bucky's pants, 'Let me get these off you.' And Bucky can't argue, leaning back on his hands to let Steve work his fly open, tuck his fingers into the waist and pull them down off Bucky's legs.

'Steve,' Bucky says, 'I don't know...' he doesn't know. He doesn't even know how to finish that sentence. but Steve is looking at him shrewdly. Is standing back a little, which Bucky doesn't like.

'What don't you know?' he asks, pulling his hands away.

'I don't know how to do this.' Because he doesn't. He has no idea. He knows he wants to touch Steve, wants to kiss him. Wants to push him against a wall and lift his legs around his waist and sink into the softness of him. But he doesn't really understand the mechanics of this.

'Oh, Bucky, that's okay,' Steve is saying, crowding back into Bucky's space, sliding his hands back onto Bucky's chest. Peeling away at Bucky's shirt, 'I can take care of you.' And he's smiling again, predatory now that he has his hands on Bucky's bare chest. 'I'm gonna take care of everything.'

Steve turns them around and sits on the bed, taking Bucky by the hands and pulling him close, 'Is this okay?'

Bucky nods, he's cold, he's exposed, naked as he is, while Steve is still dressed (admittedly just in Bucky's old shirt and a his underwear) but he trusts Steve, and he likes this feeling, of Steve taking care of Bucky this time, of his taking control.

Steve lies back on the bed and pulls Bucky with him, sliding back a little so that his head is nearer the iron bed frame, and Bucky has to climb up onto the bed to follow him, climb over Steve, staying upright on his knees so as not to hurt him. 'Come on up here closer to me, Buck,' Steve says, pulling at Bucky's hands, 'Put your knees on either side of my head.'

'Stevie, no, I don't want to hurt you.'

'You won't hurt me Buck,' Steve says, looking up at him with a smile, 'You're going to hang onto that bed frame, and you're going to lower yourself down on me, just enough so I can reach you.' Steve wraps his hands around the back of Bucky's thighs and pulls them in so that Bucky almost falls on top of him, 'You can do that for me, can't you, Buck?'

And Bucky doesn't want to disappoint him, Bucky doesn't want to miss out on whatever it is that Steve might want him like this for. He's looking down at Steve, who's gripping Bucky's thighs, nuzzling his nose up and up into Bucky's groin, and oh,  _ oh,  _ that's his tongue on Bucky's cock. Bucky grabs onto the bed frame to stop from falling onto Steve at the shock of it, and then tries to pull back from thrusting into Steve's face.

'Steve!' he calls out, then covers his mouth with one hand, holding onto the frame with the other.

'Shh, Bucky, hush,' Steve admonishes, 'I've got you, don't worry,' and there's no warning at all before Steve slides his hands up to Bucky's ass, holds the cheeks apart, and licks that damn tongue over the rim of Bucky's asshole.

Bucky bites into the hand that's still over his mouth, cutting off the moan that tries to escape there. He grips his hand into the metal of the bed frame, tensing at the sensation of his nerves on fire.

And sure, Bucky's had girls put their mouth on his dick before, get on their knees for him, but nobody has ever put their mouth on his asshole. Fucking  _ fuck _ , it feels like... it feels like... Steve reaches back up to press his tongue gently into Bucky's hole again and Bucky has to fight not to clench up at the feeling, its like Steve is pressing on the nerves that shoot straight into Bucky's dick, and it fattens up, so hard, so fast, Bucky is feeling dizzy with it.

'Steve, Stevie, oh  _ fuck _ ,' Bucky is saying, as quietly as his voice will let him, muffled behind his hand, and Steve is so unapologetic, he reaches back up from under Bucky to pull Bucky down closer, until Bucky is near enough to sitting on Steve's face that he's worried that Steve won't be able to breathe. Except Steve is pressing in again with his tongue, deeper this time, round the ring of muscle that's so sensitive, and then into Bucky's hole, and Bucky can't help but thrust into Steve again at the feel of the hot, wet, warmth of Steve's tongue inside him, he can feel the bed frame denting under his grip, can feel himself draw blood where he's biting into his hand to keep from screaming.

And Steve is relentless, he just presses his tongue further and further into Bucky, fucking into his ass with it, reaching places inside Bucky that he didn't know would ever feel so good to touch. Steve's hands, those beautiful hands, are kneading into the flesh of Bucky's upper thighs, fingers pulling at his skin to spread it wider, so he can reach deeper, and Bucky can feel himself losing control. He can feel the heat pooling in him, can feel his orgasm building. Every muffled groan that he can hear Stevie make, like Steve is loving this, like he wants nothing more than to devour Bucky, it's punching into Bucky, pummeling him, ruining him.

He's given up trying to stop himself from rocking onto Steve's face, he's desperately hanging into the bending bed frame to hold himself up, his thighs are burning from balancing himself above Steve so as not to suffocate him, and he's pushing himself harder and harder onto Steve's tongue, helping him find the angle to hit a spot inside Bucky that sends electricity right to his hard, leaking cock.

And that's it, that spot right there, he twists to force it down onto Steves tongue again and it's so much, it's too much, and Bucky can't hold on any more, he arches his back, his head thrown backwards, Steve reaching up to follow Bucky as the movement lifts him off of Steve, and he's coming, thick hot stripes of come shoot up and out, onto his stomach, onto the wall, down into Steve's hair, and with all the energy he has left he pushes off from the bedframe and back to collapse down by Steve on the bed, closing his eyes to the look that he might find on his friend’s face. Terrified that it might not be as happy as he wants it to be.

But Steve won't let him hide.

'Bucky,' Steve says, gently wrapping a hand around his upper arm, 'Buck, look at me.'

Bucky turns his head to the side and opens one eye to Steve, slowly, narrowly. Like he's peaking...

'Are you okay?'

Bucky looks at Steve through his half open eye. He can see Steve's skin is red, his forehead covered in sweat, Bucky's come in his hair, his eyes bright and alive. He doesn't look unhappy. But he does look like he's worried for Bucky. So Bucky opens his eyes fully and lifts his head up, 'I'm good, Stevie, I'm just... I think you broke me.' He smiles as he says it, and Steve lets out his held breath with a laugh.

'Oh, I hope not,' he says, pushing Bucky onto his back and then climbing over him to straddle his waist, smiling down at him like Bucky is something precious. Something to be loved. 'That was just the warm up.'

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna come chat with me, you can find me [here](https://darter-blue.tumblr.com/) on tumblr or [here](https://twitter.com/beclouise13) on twitter
> 
> Happy Monday everyone


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